Watch Dogs
by The UG Survivor
Summary: Collection of short-stories about the activities of Intelligence and its agents. Multiple POV's. Chapter 1: Watcher One has started a new life for himself working for Czerka Corporation. However, the galaxy's ghost had found him and is asking him to do one last job. [Watcher One, Cipher Nine, Watcher Two, SCORPIO] Before the "Titans of Industry" 2.3 update.


Summary: Imperial agents do many things; lie, cheat, murder, steal, but "retire" is one thing they cannot do. Watcher One has started a new life for himself working for Czerka Corporation. However, the galaxy's ghost had found him and is asking him to do one last job. A job that will determine the future of Czerka Corporation. Takes place before the events of the "Titans of Industry" 2.3 update. References to other character's stories as well.

**A/N (important!):** To keep spoilers of the Imperial agent's story line to a minimum, I am making the events in the Jedi Knight's story involving Watcher One take place after the confrontation with Jadus. That means that _Watcher One knows of the events in Act 1 of the agent, but does not know the events in Acts 2 and 3_. It helps me not to re-iterate all the developments in the story of Cipher Nine.

In the SWTOR universe, my favourite organisation was Imperial Intelligence. Cunning, intelligent, concealed and extremely influential. Watcher One was a great character in my opinion in the Jedi Knight's story because he was the first enemy to cause the Knight to question his beliefs about the Empire, who normally sees the war as very black and white. Even though he was a patriot, he was very aware of what he called "Sith madness", so he knew the Empire and the Republic were both far from perfect. He has a unique perspective of the galaxy compared to his contemporaries.

* * *

_Corellia, Coronet City, Industrial Sector, Czerka Corporation - Droids Division_

"Maxx Dyson, I'll expect a full report on the new security algorithms for the SD-2 droid by tomorrow morning. If not, you may find yourself in the unemployment line."

"Understood, Director."

Maxx gave the director a nod of acknowledgement in her direction before he saw her turn on her heel and walk back out of his office door. He gave a small sigh before returning to work on the incomplete SD-2 droid in front of him.

Managing Director Maleena Stoneheart was a tough, surly woman whose up-tightness put most drill sergeants to shame. It was no secret that Director Stoneheart disliked her number two, or anyone else for that manner. It was no surprise either that no one liked her.

She carried herself with an air of superiority and arrogance that irked the employees.

She was negative about everything. Nothing in the galaxy seem to make her happy.

She was constantly criticizing Maxx about his work, even though he knew she had no idea what she was talking about.

She was confusing her perception for reality. She was living in a world of her own. Everybody else was at fault and everyone needed her help.

And worst of all...

She was always taking credit for other people's work (especially Maxx's), using that as leverage to impress her superiors and to climb the corporate ladder.

It appeared that Czerka's goals were of little concern, as long as her own goals were achieved.

All the traits of a bad boss rolled into one.

The fact that Maxx's calm and professional demeanour never cracked under her persecution, it only made her intensify her dislike of him even more.

If anyone got a tongue lashing from Stoneheart, Maxx would have gotten one ten times worse.

Little did the director know that Maxx Dyson had plenty of experience working under superiors who were just like her.

His time under the Sith Overlords, as Imperial spymaster, Watcher One.

* * *

_Corellia, Coronet City, Industrial Sector, Czerka Corporation - Droids Division, Watcher One's Office._

Settling into a normal life was easier than Watcher One had expected.

Sure, starting a new life with nothing but the clothes on your back was never the ideal situation, but when a person still has his life, he should not be complaining. _They say you live only twice, _he mentally reminded himself._ I've already died once on Taris, and it wasn't fun. _There was no turning back to the Empire. He was given a second chance, and he intended to make the most of it.

Before he could catch a ride aboard a Republic shuttle, he knew he needed to change his identity. The SIS had learned of his presence on Taris (only because Jedi Knight Hirasa had forced his hand) and they knew the threat Intelligence posed to them. Even with the situation "resolved", with himself and his unit officially deemed KIA by the Republic, they would still be on high alert for any signs of Imperial infiltration. Creating a new identity would be easy; agents of Intelligence slip in and out of personas and accents as easily as a person changes clothes. But now, the identity he had to create for himself would have to be of a more... permanent type.

So with a modified ID tag, some "borrowed" clothes and a few changes to a Republic identification database, Corellia had it's newest citizen, Maxx Dyson.

Three years had passed since his "resurrection", and everyone was none the wiser that there was a former Imperial spy living among them. Long gone was the neatly pressed grey uniform that he once so proudly wore, now he simply wore a corporate shirt and trousers that bore Czerka's logo. His once long, slicked back hair was now reduced to a neat crew cut and the moustache that once graced his upper lip was now completely gone.

He was sure if his old partner from Intelligence, Cipher Seven, saw him now, she would have laughed and said that he'd lost his moustache because he sneezed too hard. He missed working with her.

Watcher One was already anonymous when working for the Empire, but now... it was like that man never existed. To everyone around him, he was simply Maxx Dyson, a respectable man with a respectable means of living. And in the eyes of Czerka Corporation, finding him was the best thing that happened to them in these economically woeful times.

Maxx wiped the sweat off his forehead with a small, white cloth as he continued to work on the master board of the SD-2 droid, smiling fondly as he recalled the time when he "presented" his training and skills to Czerka's HR officers. He had left them completely slack-jawed when he showed them his proficiency in programming, security and slicing. It appeared to them that there wasn't anything about security systems that he didn't already know about. Maxx's skill and experience coupled with his hard-work ethic was the reason he had reached a position of heavy responsibility in such a short time.

Maxx did not consider himself a boastful person, but he would have been lying if he had said it had not felt good when he had occasionally flaunted his expertise in front of others, something he could not have done in his time in Intelligence. In the Empire, hard work and constant improvement was expected from everyone. Education was paramount, so such training and skills were considered as necessary as the bread they ate and the air they breathed. Praise was rare, and the only thing you got for exhibiting yourself was unwanted attention from the Sith. He vividly remembered the rare instances in when Darth Jadus came to inspect Intelligence headquarters, along with the sheer fear and terror that his mere presence seem to instill in everyone around him.

Speaking of unwanted attention... The Director.

Maxx inwardly grimaced as soon as that woman's face came into his thoughts. She had been nothing but a thorn in his side as soon as he was assigned to Project SENTINEL, Czerka's investment program for the development of the prototype SD-2 security droid. Stoneheart was not the least bit impressed by Maxx's accomplishments and claimed that no-one got as far as he did - all the way to Vice Director - so quickly without some "kickbacks" along the way. It appeared that Stoneheart had a severe case of professional jealously, seeing Maxx's rise to power as a threat to her position and influence, but had no hook to use against him because Maxx carried out his duties without the slightest trace of negligence or corruption. That still didn't stop her from trying though.

In his lifetime as Watcher One, Maxx had dealt with the pressures of war, espionage, conspiracy, super-weapons, traitors, enemy force-users and Sith overlords. All with a cool head and unyielding professionalism. He would be damned if he let some stubborn, stuck-up shrew stop him from doing his job. Right now, that was meeting the deadline for the completion of the SD-2.

Maxx put down the soldering iron he was using as he delicately put on the finishing touches on the master circuit board, feeling a surge of satisfaction that he always got from reaching an objective. He held out the master-board in front of himself with his left hand, turning it back and forth to get a better view of it in the light, admiring the fine piece of tech he had just created. The contented lines on his face then slowly turned into a scowl as he put the master-board back onto his workbench. He still had to complete his report to the Director. Maxx was no stranger to paperwork, but this was not the first time Stoneheart had demanded a report on something that was already well documented. The security algorithms that he and his team had created were already tried and tested. Coupled with the fact that Czerka Corporation was not doing well financially - although no-one dared to say that out loud -, there was a lot riding on Project SENTINEL to pull Czerka out of its economic ditch. The report was an unwelcome distraction.

Sighing in reluctance, Maxx strode across his office toward his work terminal on his desk. Swivelling his chair around before dropping heavily into its leather cushioning, he slid open the holo-panel and let his fingers start flying over the holographic keys. Even though his body was doing work, he found that his mind was wandering elsewhere. Questions and a small amount of nostalgia started to worm its way into his thoughts. _"What does the Director want to know about the algorithms that she doesn't know about already? Why doesn't she seem intent on my team finishing the SD-2, instead having me do unnecessary tasks ? Does she have a personal agenda? Intelligence taught everyone has an ulterior motive. So many questions, not enough answers.."_

His thoughts were sharply interrupted when the power and lights in his office suddenly went offline, bathing him in darkness. Momentarily, his eyes were adjusting to the inky shadows before the power and lights snapped back on a few seconds later. He silently cursed under his breath as his work terminal flickered back to life, remembering that he had not saved the progress on his report. He hoped that what he saw on the screen would be the same as how he left it.

"What in the name of..."

Only that it wasn't. Instead of his written report, the screen had turned black and something had been written across the screen:

_/ : / M. Dyson,_

_/ : / The Empire requires your assistance._

_/ : / ... Again._

Maxx stared at his work terminal in disbelief. Someone had managed to hack into Czerka's security systems without tripping any alarms. In his mind, caution and paranoia was warring with curiousity. The cautious part of his mind was telling him he should shut down his terminal immediately because they already knew too much about him. The curious part of his mind wanted to know more, half-impressed that they had managed to circumvent his security defences.

In the end, curiousity won. Though not without some caution. He typed into his terminal:

_State your name and business, otherwise I'll deactivate the power on my terminal._

He was bluffing, of course, but they didn't need to know that.

There was a short pause, before another message appeared on his terminal.

_/ : / Afraid of the writing on the wall?_

_/ : / Can't say we blame you. There is no impending doom, though._

_/ : / Names are irrelevant: we are the galaxy's Watch Dogs._

_/ : / Our business: We want you to join us._

Maxx frowned. The other party was being frustratingly vague. He wrote:

_And what does "joining" you involve?_

The cursor continued to blink on the screen, before it answered him.

_/ : / New work, the future of Czerka Corporation and the removal of "liabilities"._

_/ : / Oh, and some answers we might have for your questions._

_/ : / We'll be waiting at these co-ordinates in an hour._

_/ : / Don't keep us waiting._

_/ : / ..._

_/ : / Watcher One._

His work terminal blacked out for a split second, before it returned to the screen of his half-finished report. Maxx stared sightlessly at his terminal with his hands folded under his chin, his mind deep in thought. Now he had even more questions than he had before with them permeating his thoughts. _How do these people know who I was? How much do they know? Are they here to help or harm me? Why did they find me after a full 3 years? What were these "liabilities" they had in mind? What's going to happen to Czerka Corporation? And why was he chosen to join them instead of anyone else?_

He removed his round work-glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose to alleviate the pressure he felt building in his head and sinuses. He was going to need a strong shot of coffee from his favourite vendour soon. Maxx willed the incoming headache away and before long the inner spy within him began to resurface, the cold, calculating demeanour that he hadn't used in years. The gears of thought in his head clicked into place and the wheels of threat assessment began to turn. Right now, Maxx Dyson was not needed. There was only Watcher One.

Damn it all to the void. What alternative did he have?

Getting up from his chair, he walked over to the small safe that was next to his desk. Self-preservation was telling him it could be a trap and he should forget the past five minutes and continue as if it never happened. Logic, on the other hand, was telling him that they were still watching him a would find him again, seeing how easy it was for them to slice right into the heart of Czerka's security system. He could tell that they were cool, collected and methodical like himself. They didn't seem overly intimidating either; the message had a rather inviting tone to it, even a hint of humour. He didn't want a life were he would have to constantly look over his shoulder, with paranoia eating you from the inside out. Confrontation was his only option.

Kneeling over, Maxx entered in the safe's code and at the same time let it run its electronic scanner over his right eye. The safe gave a small hum, then a beep, before the light on the door turned from red to green, allowing him to spin the handle and heave open the thick door. Inside his work safe were various items he kept away from prying eyes, but Maxx knew exactly what he would need. He pulled out several items from the safe before closing the door, the masterboard tucked securely inside.

Maxx carefully placed the items on his desk and began his preparations. It had been a while since he had to use a weapon, but his Elite Watchman's blaster felt like an extension of his body as soon as he picked it up. He turned it over a couple of times, feeling the weight, before sliding in the Rylith power cell and locking it into place. He briefly considered using a scope, but decided against it. He doubted this meeting would have the potential to end up in a long range fire-fight were he might need it. He preferred to use the iron sights, anyway.

He took aim at a broken security droid at the opposite side of his office and fired a single bolt. The blaster bolt found its mark, hitting the droid's head and blowing it clean off. He smiled. He was still in good nick.

Cipher Seven would have scorned him if she had saw that, asserting that she could have made that shot at a hundred yards or at a thousand with her sniper rifle. She was undeniably the best sharpshooter that Maxx had known.

Tucking away the blaster in a holster behind his back, he began work on putting on the blaster-proof vest. It looked like standard corporate vest to the untrained eye, but it really was made of high-tech fibres that created a fabric that had the capacity to withstand high-energy bolts, effectively light armour in the form of clothing. The last latch of the vest clicked into place as Maxx tugged on the vest to ensure a snug fit, before sliding a datapad, a slicer kit and a small medpac into his pockets. He then retrieved his leather jacket from the back of his chair and wore it over his vest. There was no need to show everyone in Coronet City that he looked like he was preparing for another invasion of Corellia.

A series of nervous beeps caught his attention as he strode out of his office. An AG-11 droid looked up at him, looking apprehensive.

_AG-11 = heard blaster shot. / Vice Director = needs help?_

Maxx shook his head. "No, I'm fine, thank you. Tell anyone looking for me that I've taken an early lunch break and I'll be back in a couple of hours. I have a business meeting with an important client afterwards and I ask not to be disturbed or contacted via holo during this time. Understood?"

The droid gave an affirmative nod. _AG-11 = understood. / Vice Director = no calls until return. / AG-11 = wishes Vice Director well in business meeting._

"That will be all."

Maxx took a deep, steadying breath as he watched the droid wheel away back onto it normal route. It was time. Once the meeting with his contact had started, there would be no turning back. Everything decision today was going to be a big one. Run or confront. Accept or reject. Kill or be killed. He was ready.

But first, he was going to need that coffee.

* * *

_Corellia, Coronet City, Axial Park._

The trip toward his destination had been an uneventful one. As soon as he stepped off the rocket tram, Maxx's senses were assaulted by bustling atmosphere of Coronet City. Even with the jostling of pedestrians, the mechanical whines of droids and machinery and the incessant burbling of holo-ads, Maxx found his mind oblivious to the outside world. He was playing potential scenarios in his mind over and over again, working out and trying to cover all different angles. This was completely normal to him, analysing, calculating. Anticipation was his coping mechanism, something he had taught himself a long time ago to replace fear.

Maxx inhaled the aromatic scents coming from his take-away cup, before finishing off the rest of his coffee, savouring the sharp acidity and sweetness that came from his favourite beverage. He tossed away his cup in a perfect arc, with it landing directly in nearest waste bin. He won't admit it to anyone, but strong caffeine was another one of his coping mechanisms that he had developed during his lifetime. The taste and smell of it always worked magic on the tension that built in his head and neck whenever he got stressed.

He continued walking through Axial Park until he came to an area that was still recovering from the conflict between Republic and Imperial forces. Looking around warily to make sure no-one was watching, Maxx rounded a corner while at the same time pulling out his datapad. He flicked through a few screens before coming across to the co-ordinates that were given to him. If he was not mistaken, he was here.

Maxx carefully examined the room he had just entered, slowly removing his blaster from his holster. The room was large but fairly simple, with a large terminal and screen on the opposite wall of the room, as well as a round table embedded into the floor in the centre. There was almost nothing to indicate that the room had been recently occupied, no food packaging, no discarded datapads, no tracks in the floor from droid activity.

_Which is probably the reason why they choose to meet me here in the first place_, Maxx thought, his eyes focused down the sights of his blaster. _A place that's out of sight, out of mind as possible, no reason for anyone to investigate around this area._

The hairs on the back of Maxx's neck stood on end, as well as an uneasiness that had starting to creep into his stomach. He was on high alert, knowing that this meeting could have been an elaborate set-up by the Sith to draw him into the open. The Sith did not take failure lightly, especially Darth Angral. At best, one would receive several disciplinary action. At worst, one would suffer a very slow and excruciating death. Maxx had no desire to fall victim to the latter.

He tried not to think of the possibility of the truth coming out with his confrontation with the Jedi Knight Hirasa. He had fought against Hirasa under Angral's orders - and against his better judgment - for his capture as well as the overly-zealous Republic scientist Doctor Nasan Godera. Hirasa defeated him (not without a fight though), but instead of delivering the killing blow, he let him go, realising that he was simply following orders and doing his job.

He slowly walked to what looked like a de-activated security droid, it's head dipped and it's back to the side wall. _A very strange security droid indeed,_ Maxx thought. It was made of a high-quality durasteel alloy with platinum inlays, as well as it being equipped with an electrostaff rather than a blaster rifle. The fact that it's body had the curves of a woman made him suspect that this droid might have been an unique model.

He was thinking of the droid's potential value if he brought it back to Czerka, when suddenly he was grabbed from behind and the tip of a vibroknife was jammed into his back. An arm that was now snaked around his neck had materialized out of nothingness, along with the distinct sound of a stealth generator being deactivated. Just how had someone managed to sneak up on him so easily? Right. The droid. It had been a distraction.

"Don't move." The voice in his ear was male. It was slow, deliberate ... and unmistakably Imperial. "Were you followed?"

Maxx silently applauded the man for noticing his vest, which was useless against blades. "No, I watched my back the entire way. I assure you I wasn't trailed."

The knife behind him remained rock steady. "SCORPIO?"

A cold, computerized voice came from one of the cameras on the wall. "Gone through all 463 cameras and security nodes within this sector. No organic or synthetic beings seen following the target."

The knife lingered on his back for a second longer before being removed, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief once the man had let him go. Even with his back to the mystery man, he could tell that he was smiling. "Good to see you haven't lost your touch, Watcher One. Apologies for the 'sharp' greeting, but one can never be too careful. Just some habits don't die easily."

"My thoughts exactly. I guess there is really is no such thing as a retired agent." he replied, holstering his blaster while at the same time turning around to get a look at his enigmatic contact. In front of him was a man dressed in pants, boots and a charcoal trench coat. Maxx was normally good at estimating someone's age, but it was hard to tell with this man. His face was on the young side, but his raven black hair was greying slightly, while the square line of his jaw was darkened with stubble; definitely making him look older. "Hopefully we can keep the rest of this encounter civil. We're both professionals here, you know."

"A shame. A fight between you two would have yielded valuable data." Maxx was shocked to say the least when he realised that the previously de-activated droid was now staring directly at him with it's menacing orange eyes. It's eyes glowed bright yellow for a few seconds, before returning to normal.

"Scan complete. No listening devices found. All relevant surveillance data has been erased."

"Good. Broadcast mode. White Noise, thirty minutes, then leave. Override the outside security systems."

"As you wish, agent."

As SCORPIO turned and walked away from them, Maxx saw and heard another stealth field disengage. This time a woman appeared. She gave her head a small shake, before brushing the dust off her otherwise clean white blouse. She wore dark slacks, boots, a utility belt and an open vest and that gave her the appearance of a smuggler. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with her short, dark hair and brown eyes.

"I really don't know how you can do that for hours at a time, Cipher," she groused, taking a good stretch to work out the pins and needles that had started to work its way up her legs. "Even five minutes without something to do is enough to drive me crazy."

"It's called practice, my dear Shara." he teased, twirling his vibroknife between his fingers in an elaborate spin several times before putting it away inside his coat. "And please, don't call me that anymore. Remember, Cipher Nine is dead. He died on Corellia in a building collapse. No thanks to you, of course."

_A Cipher agent._ Maxx thought. _Just like Seven. Cunning, charming and professional liars. He's open about it, ironically enough._

The woman named Shara gave the ex-agent a small smirk. "Don't tell me you miss all the attention you were getting." She shot back.

"Of course not. I wouldn't have my life any other way." He grinned, stretching his arms in an exaggerated manner to emphasise his point. "Your attention, however, is most welcome. Over dinner, perhaps?"

Her face was carefully neutral. "Maybe another time, once this is done."

He laughed out loud. "Oh, if only I had ten credits for every time you said that, I would have credits that would rival the Hutt Cartel."

Maxx cleared his throat slightly to get the attention of the bantering duo. "If I might put this back on track?" He held out his hands in a placating gesture. "I take it you know who I am, but I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

"Of course, where are my manners?" The agent's tone went from casual to serious in an instant as he regarded Maxx. "Officially, I don't exist, so I can't give you a name, although I've been named a few things over the past years. The Shadow, the Blade, the Trickster," he continued, ticking points off on his gloved fingers as he spoke. "Formerly Cipher Nine of Imperial Intelligence, but for now, call me Spectre."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance." He turned to the woman. "I recognise you now. You're a Watcher, if I remember correctly."

"Shara Jenn, formerly Keeper of Operations Division, formerly Watcher Two." She said, clasping her hands behind her back. "I read your dossier, Watcher One. Very impressive. Twenty years in service to Intelligence, highly skilled in interrogation, psychological manipulation, threat assessment and security decryption. We look forward to working with you."

Maxx wasn't sure if the praise was genuine due to Shara's matter-of-fact tone, but he was more interested in the first part. "You said 'formerly' Keeper of Operations. What happened to the old Keeper?"

"My predecessor was elevated to Minister of Intelligence after the demise of Darth Jadus. That made me the new Keeper. Unfortunately, the Minister was forced into retirement, due to ... unexpected developments."

Controlling one's feelings was something fundamentally taught to all agents, but Maxx found it increasingly difficult to suppress the feelings of anticipation and dread building in his gut. He braced himself for some revelations that he had been looking for. "These 'developments' have clearly lead up to this meeting. What has happened to Intelligence in my absence?"

Spectre crossed his arms over his chest and gave Maxx a sly smile. "Oh, where to start? Do you really want to know?"

Maxx resisted the urge to frown and instead replied, "I believe I have the capability to handle the inconvenient truth. It's what we do as agents, after all."

Spectre's reply was wordless, instead he started to walk toward the terminal on the back wall, gesturing with two fingers for the others to follow. Shara swiftly got the terminal online with a few twists of her hands and some precise keystrokes on the holo-panel. As the screen flickered to life, Spectre took front and centre facing the terminal with Shara to his left and Maxx to his right. Removing a datachip from his coat, he examined it briefly before inserting it into the panel in front of him. A progress bar appeared on the screen and steadily filled to 100%. It was time.

* * *

Spectre continued to keep his eyes fixed on the screen in front of him as the information from his datachip continued to load. Through his peripheral vision, he could feel the scrutiny of Watcher One's eyes on him. He didn't blame him. Operatives didn't necessarily trust one another. His time and interaction with Doctor Lokin had taught him that, from the experiences he related and from working with the old man himself on Taris. Trust especially didn't come easy when it came to the sensitive matters of information and secrets, which were the lifeblood of any agent. He had asked Shara to come along with him for this operation for her expertise, which was true. The real reason, however, was because he enjoyed her company and a fellow Watcher and familiar face would put Watcher One at ease.

While the activities of agents were generally kept secret by headquarters, that didn't stop the whispers of successful missions leak into the small talk between agents. Spectre had not known Watcher One, but Dr. Lokin - who had outlived every agent he had known - had told him that he knew him by reputation. Skilled, reliable and efficient. Lokin had even speculated that Watcher One would have succeeded the old Keeper instead of Shara if not for his mysterious disappearance.

When Spectre had caught wind of his presence on Corellia, Lokin had recommended that he would be the perfect person for the mission. Shara had read through Watcher One's psych reports and had concluded that his loyalties still lay with the Empire. Shara and himself had spent the past week planning this operation and so far, things were going to plan. Watcher One had not been an easy man to find and was good at covering his tracks. But thanks to his millennia-old supply of secrets from his Black Codex, Shara's eugenically-enhanced mind was able to sift through the cyber haystack to find the needles of information they were looking for.

As soon as the progress bar on the screen filled completely, Spectre typed in a command on the holo-panel that blacked out the terminal to prevent Maxx seeing anything that was on there. It was time he made his terms clear with Watcher One.

"Are you sure you want in? This is your last opportunity to walk out, Watcher One." Spectre started slowly, removing his dark shades so he could look him directly in the eye. "I can understand that you do not want to be pulled back into the dark underworld of the Empire. I will respect that and we will part ways." He paused, letting his words sink in. "However, what I'm about to tell you next will not leave this room without my consent. Am I clear?"

Maxx gave a determined gaze directly back into the dark blue eyes that the shades were hiding a second ago. They were cold, almost predatory, but there was a glint of humour and mischievousness in them as well. "Crystal. I not going to back down. If the Empire requires my assistance again, I am ready."

"Good. I would hate you to become a loose end. And I _don't_ leave loose ends." He emphasized his point by revealing a retractable blade hidden in the sleeve of his coat, flicking it open, its keen edge glinting in the light.

Even though Maxx kept on his mask of professionalism on, Spectre couldn't help but snicker at his hidden discomfort at the veiled threat. Even though most people pigeon-holed Imperials to be all stiff and proper, Spectre fell into that category only occasionally. He enjoyed a strong drink, exotic foods and a good laugh - often at other people's expense - but this was often used to distract people from his line of work and how dangerous he really was when it came to business. His impertinence had certainly put him at odds with his more conservative counterparts who didn't appreciate his sense of humour. The former Minister of Intelligence in particular. He vividly remembered their last conversation:

**_"The Empire's going to need you. Someone will be in touch."_**

**_"Off the record Minister, there's something I have to say: I know sometimes I give you a hard time and we didn't always agree on everything, but the truth is there isn't a person in the Empire that I respect more than you. I couldn't have asked for a better mentor."_**

**_"And I couldn't have trained a better agent. Now, on your way Cipher, there is work to be done."_**

Spectre pulled himself out of memory lane at his brought his mind back to the present._ "Work to be done..."_ he mentally chided himself, as he got the screen online again. _"I'll finish what you started, sir, that I promise you."_

* * *

The terminal came back to life, revealing a plethora of intel: dossiers, surveillance data, financial records, security codes, voice recordings and encrypted messages. Maxx was impressed at how Spectre and Shara had managed to amass such a wealth of information. He didn't think they would be inclined to share their source of information with him; and that was fine by him. It was probably better if he didn't know anyway.

Noticing his impressed look, Spectre grinned like a boy who was showing off his new speeder in front of his friends. This was but a fraction of the power he wielded with the Black Codex. Arranging the meeting with Watcher One in Czerka's HQ was child's play with the conspirator's stolen tech. He had used the override technology that had been used to destroy the colony of Isen Four to disable the security systems of Czerka. SCORPIO had then installed a backdoor virus into Czerka's Cental Operating System at a vulnerable access point which enabled him remote control over all of Czerka's systems. In this case, it was his office terminal.

"I'm going to start with what you already know; the war is not going well for the Empire."

Maxx nodded. "The Empire's loss on Corellia was the turning point of the war."

"Yes, and things have deteriorated since."

"How so?"

Spectre cocked an eyebrow at Shara. He never took pleasure in relaying bad news. Unless, of course, it was to his enemies.

She answered immediately. "Shortly after an attack on Intelligence by an outside organisation, the Dark Council deemed Intelligence incompetent for its failure to support the Ministry of War. Headquarters was dissolved and now Operations Division no longer exists. Imperial Intelligence is gone."

"And what of the personnel?"

"Reassigned to serve in the military or under Sith Lords."

"Which explains your former designations." Maxx rubbed his forehead while still digesting the information. "I can understand why this doesn't leave this room without your consent. This will send the message that the Empire is weak and divided.

"Yes, unfortunately while the Empire is struggling to retain order, the Republic is now pushing against our borders."

"We lost the battle, not the war." Spectre interjected. "The Sith may now control Intelligence's resources, but were not finished yet."

"You have a plan to bring Intelligence back into Imperial hands?" Maxx asked incredulously.

"Well, yes and no. Headquarters is gone and there's nothing we can do about that. But the goals of Imperial Intelligence is not so easily destroyed."

Maxx caught on immediately. "You've been operating Intelligence independent of the Empire."

"Clandestine as well, no-one knows anything about our reconstructed organisation, except the former Minister of Intelligence. It was his plan actually, he anticipated the fall of Intelligence and made plans for us to remain operational from the shadows."

That sounded just like him. Maxx knew that the old Keeper was exceptionally smart and cunning to boot, traits that made him greatly respect the man. "They made a mistake putting him into retirement. The Empire needs people like him."

Spectre considered if he should tell Maxx that the former Minister of Intelligence had actually got off lightly. The Dark Council was furious at him for acting with proper authorisation and had wanted his head for insubordination. Darth Imperius had then spoken up in his behalf and had managed to convince them to reduce the sentence from "hanging" to "permanent redundancy". He decided to leave the story untold and merely said, "Regardless, we keep going like we always have."

Maxx gave him a solemn nod. "Yes, the mission always come first."

Spectre's fingers worked on the holo-panel to bring up the relevant files for Maxx's briefing. "This is where you come in. I've been watching every major organisation though my network of contacts for the past 24 months now. We have this mission because a new threat has itself manifest. One that _you_ must eliminate."

Maxx clasped his hands behind his back. "What is it that I have to do?"

"Shara, my dear, would you do the honours?"

"Following the Treaty of Coruscant," she began, "the Empire began to search for allies within the neutral systems. The Empire set its sights on the Hutt Cartel so we could gain access to their weapons, credits and resources." Shara glanced up at Spectre with her large, brown eyes while still working on the terminal in front of her. "That was you're first major assignment as a field agent, wasn't it?"

"Yes, on Nal Hutta, that cesspit of a planet the Hutts called home." Spectre wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Consider yourself fortunate that you've never been assigned to a Hutt-controlled world. I couldn't smell anything on that mud-ball other than pollution or sewerage."

"That's why I'll stick to my safe, boring desk job. I'll take that over the dirty and dangerous any day."

Spectre snorted. "Safety is overrated. There's no point in living, if you can't feel alive." He tilted his head in Maxx's direction. "Tell him about Operation COALITION."

"Yes, we now know that the Republic did the same thing during the Cold War. The Republic desperately needed resources following the sacking of Coruscant, so secretly began to try to secure an alliance with Czerka Corporation. Operation COALITION, they called it." Shara opened up the stolen SIS reports on the screen so they could all see it. "Despite repeated efforts from Republic diplomats, Czerka refused to side with the Republic, knowing that it would make itself an enemy of the Empire if it did. It also kept its independence for war profiteering, being able to sell its weapons, droids and biological research to both the Empire and the Republic."

"So I'm suited for this mission because of my affiliation to Czerka Corporation, but just where does this lead us?" Maxx asked, slightly irritated that they seemed to be leading him along.

"We're getting to that." Spectre replied, opening a holorecording that projected the image of a regalia-dressed Chagrian. "Three weeks ago, I intercepted this transmission through one of my contacts. Take a listen."

_"This is Adjudicator Refain representing the Republic Senate. In the past few years, Czerka Corporation has been rocked by scandals, financial crises and lost factories that have left it on the verge of economic collapse. Following negotiations, Czerka Corporation has agreed to a takeover by the Galactic Republic to prevent from itself from defaulting. The Republic will begin seizing corporate assets and replacing senior management within the next quarter as soon as we receive full authorisation."_

The stakes has just been raised. Now his job was on the line.

"So, as you can see, we have a problem here. Or rather, _Czerka_ has a problem."

"No worse than the problems you cause other people, I'm sure." Shara's even voice made it near impossible to tell if she was making a statement or telling a joke.

"You know me by now. Problem _solving_ for people is what I do for work. Problem _creating_ for people is what I do in my free time."

Maxx was too busy analysing this new information to pay attention to the other two, scratching his chin with his right hand. "I knew Czerka was doing badly, but not to the point of agreeing to a merge. What changed that the company collapsed so quickly? Czerka may have been ambitious, but they're not stupid. I'm suspecting foul play."

"That recording is going to be the official story given to public in the coming months. But only an idiot believes the official story." Spectre waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "And you're right about outside interference, although _inside_ interference might be closer to the mark."

"Yes, and we have evidence of Republic intervention." Shara's gloved hands continued to work over the panel as all eyes went back to the console. "Given the diplomats' failure to win Czerka's support, Operation COALITION was handed over to the Republic Strategic Information Service. The SIS began planting agents within the ranks of Czerka to monitor there activities, any bit of information that could be used to sway them to join the Republic." The screen of the console was now filled with the profiles of SIS agents. "These operatives go anywhere from investors, consultants, employees to senior executives. Some have been undercover for more than ten years."

"Just how did you obtain this information?"

Spectre wasn't about to tell him had obtained the SIS files the same way the Star Cabal had acquired his brainwashing codes from the old Intelligence HQ during his time as Cipher Nine. Just thinking about it was like re-opening an old wound, one that had etched itself on his very being. Even though the wound had healed, the scars and memories never truly faded. So he simply left Maxx with the words, "Trade secret. Go on Shara."

"Since the news of the Emperor's demise, our enemies have grown more bold in their tactics. According to the reports, Operation COALITION was upgraded from Status Three to Status Five. This meant the Senate authorised the SIS to bring Czerka Corporation to the Republic's side by any means necessary. SIS agents went from monitoring Czerka Corporation to sabotaging it from the inside. Over the past years, these agents have been responsible for the failure of operations, disappearance of assets and the seducing and murdering of key executives."

"Which has culminated in Czerka's collapse and the Republic takeover." Maxx finished.

"Exactly. So once again, we're mounting an operation against the SIS."

"And here I thought the Republic was beneath such methods." Maxx sniffed. In truth, though, it didn't surprise him.

Spectre's eyes narrowed. "They're not. I've seen it myself. Outwardly, they show themselves to be upright, but on the inside they're as rotten and corrupt as they get. We going to show them what it feels like when their actions are made _very_ public." Spectre pulled out a datachip from his coat and tossed it in Maxx's direction, who deftly caught it between his forefingers. "That chip contains all the information needed to expose the Republic's hand in Czerka's affairs. Once we blow the lid off this operation, have no doubt to who Czerka will come running to."

Maxx fingered the datachip for a few seconds, his face a mixture of disbelief and excitement. Pulling out his datapad, he inserted the datachip into its side. Sure enough, the screen was loaded up with similar information to what was displayed on the console: messages, holorecordings, transactions, reports and the profiles of the agents working in Czerka's ranks.

"Why do I get the honour of delivering this to the Board of Directors?" Maxx asked, as he continued to flick through the pages of his datapad.

"Because anonymity is a ghost's greatest weapon. I don't want anyone to know that I had a stake in this as well. I need complete deniability. My other contacts either would be considered too shady for Czerka to trust or have obvious Imperial ties." Spectre looked in Shara's direction as if to say _Like you._ Shara simply smiled in response. "You, on the other hand, has no affiliations to the Empire. Maxx Dyson is a Republic citizen, miracle worker for Czerka Corporation. Besides," he drawled, displaying an agent's dossier on the screen, "I thought you might like to get even at those who have made your life difficult."

Once the profile picture of the agent loaded up, Maxx's jaw literally dropped.

It was the "Director".

There was now plenty of motivation for him to take this mission. The Empire, his job and now, a little bit of poetic justice.

Spectre nodded. "I know. Surprised me as well. Didn't think the SIS had it in them."

"She is your number one target. Agent Hana Vasch, age 42, military background, currently undercover as Director of Project SENTINEL. Known for her adherence to regulations, but willing to use and sacrifice others as a means to advance Republic interests. She's been sabotaging progress of the completion of the SD-2 droid."

Maxx saw everything now. "I know. Good employees, funding and raw materials were lost because of her. If it wasn't for me, this operation would have failed long ago."

"Project SENTINEL must succeed for Czerka's survival." Shara gave Maxx a hard stare. "She has to go. _You_ must take over as Director."

"I suppose now I don't have to submit that report after all," he responded dryly. "How do you want me to deal with her? Expose or eliminate?"

"Expose is preferable. Once you blow her cover, Czerka will do the rest. You see, Czerka's decision for a Republic takeover was far from unanimous." Spectre projected another image, this time of a Mirialan woman. "Make sure to make contact with this woman. Doctor Eva Kaayz, Chief Operation Officer of Czerka's Weapons Division. She strongly voiced her opposition to the Republic takeover and is in favour with a deal with the Empire. There are many others like her that will rally to support her once you show her the evidence."

Maxx understood. It was a brilliant plan, one that would have made the old Keeper proud. Once he had delivered the "goods" to Czerka, Czerka's sympathy for the Republic would evaporate. The Republic would then have to fight among themselves, wasting time and resources that should have been spent fighting the Empire. The actions of the SIS would also cause public uproar and the Senate would have no choice but to appease the people by withdrawing their support for the SIS and freezing their operations. Not only did this delay a Republic offensive and buy the Empire a much-needed reprieve, it also would bring the Empire a powerful ally and supplier.

Not to mention that he would take over as Director and finally be able to work in peace.

He ejected the chip from his datapad and clutched it firmly in his palm, as if he physically held the power to change the galaxy. And in a way, he did.

Spectre and Shara had already removed the datachip from the console and had scrubbed the terminal, so that there was no evidence that this meeting had taken place or even what had been transpired here.

"You know what you have to do. You made an Imperial spymaster for a reason." This time, Spectre's tone went from serious to casual. "Oh, and one more thing. Successfully follow through with this mission and I may tell you the whereabouts of a certain somebody. Cipher Seven?"

Again, Spectre pulled out another trump card that surprised Maxx. _Sly Dog. _"You know about her as well?"

"Please, remember who you're talking to. The Galaxy's Watch Dogs. You know information is power. And when it comes to information and secrets, I" -Spectre pulled out his dark shades and put them back on with one hand- "am Top Dog."

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**A/N:** Well, that's all folks! This was my first fan-fic, **so please review** (feedback is more valuable to me than a favourite, but still hit the favourite button by all means).

I like taking suggestions from readers, so I intentionally left out certain plot points so I could fill them in later. Leave them in the reviews.

My agent uses his alias, so I am taking **suggestions for his real name**. Also taking suggestions for the **name of my Sith Inquisitor** (who is female), who will play a big part in a future story I have planned. Any **suggestions for future chapters** are also welcome.


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